My brother knows better than to bring his rowdy teammates around my house unless he wants them to get a real education. I usually get my fix with teen phone sex when I’m bored, but having a living room full of thick-necked, adrenaline-pumped athletes is a much better way to spend a Saturday. These boys just finished a game and were looking for a place to crash, but the moment they saw me in my old cheer uniform, the vibe shifted from “team hangout” to a total fuck fest.
I’ve watched these guys grow up, and they’ve always had a thing for their friend’s hot older sister. I stood in the kitchen and watched them eye my ass while I poured drinks. One by one, they started crowding me, their large, athletic frames taking up all my space. My brother just sat back on the sofa with a smirk, knowing exactly what was about to happen.
The team captain, a massive guy with a thick 9-inch cock, was the first to grab me. He pulled me against his jersey, and I could feel how hard he was through his shorts. The living room turned into a war zone of wandering hands and heavy breathing. I dropped to my knees right there on the rug and started pulling out their thick, throbbing dicks.
Seeing five or six of them standing over me, waiting their turn to shove their fat cocks down my throat, was exactly the rush I needed. They weren’t being gentle; they were treating me like the used-up slut I love to be. One held my hair while I sucked him dry, while another was behind me, ripping my leggings down to get to my wet pussy.
It didn’t take long before they were running a complete train on me. I was being doubled and tripled, with my brother’s friends taking turns slamming into my tight holes. The sound of their heavy balls slapping against my skin filled the room. They moved with the same aggression they used on the field, piling on top of me and sharing my body like I was their favorite piece of equipment.
By the time they started blowing their loads, I was covered from head to toe in thick, sticky cum. They took turns painting my face and filling my gut until I was a gaped-out, dripping mess. If you think you can handle a workout like that, you better call me and prove it.
Yolanda
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